Writer's Block
by inactiveisasinactivedoes
Summary: Uzumaki Naruto is a down in the dumps, struggling writer who has been in a perennial writer's block for months. Years, really. He just needs that spark of genuine inspiration to write the Next Great Novel. But he really didn't ask for it in the form of his old rival - an aloof, arrogant, and so-hot-it-should-be-illegal utter jackass.
1. Chapter 1

Uzumaki Naruto pounded back another round of tequila, letting the alcohol burn his way through his body. Taking away the stress of the day, finally, blissfully finished.

"Baa-chan!" he hollered, drunkenly waving his arm in the air. "Ov'r here! 'ne more –" he stuttered, then laughed drunkenly. "—'ne more ssshot!"

The woman to whom he was gesturing hardly had the appearance of an 'old lady'. Her face was finely boned, with intelligent brown eyes and pale blonde hair tied loosely back. From the neck down, however, was what commanded immediate attention. Her stupendous curves with deeply plunging cleavage was reminiscent of the covers of old romance novels where the male character, usually a vampire with flowing black hair and rippling muscles, ravished said bosomy female on bedspreads of red silk satin before plunging his fangs into her dainty neck.

Back in the days when he'd been a randy teenager, Naruto had taken one look at that awe-inspiring cleavage and proceeded to very loudly, lewdly hit on her. She'd casually sent him flying into a wall, all but breaking his collarbone. After laughing about it for a week, Jiraiya had told Naruto her real age and how obsessively she applied every anti-aging cream on the planet to keep her youthful good looks. From there, they'd settled into a comfortable relationship of loud-mouthed hothead and cranky sort-of-aunt. There had been times, when the three of them had been sitting around a table downing bottles of sake and hollering at one another, that Naruto had felt like he'd finally had a family.

Then Jiraiya had died in that car accident, and that happy illusion had been shattered.

The sexy blonde woman sauntered over, taking in the sight of her favourite customer nearly passed out on the bar. "You're cut off, brat," she said.

Naruto hiccupped. "N-not yet," he slurred. "'m fine, Tsunade old ladyyyyy." And with this, he promptly slumped over, cheek slamming into the sticky wooden surface. His fingers loosened their grip, and the glass began to fall towards the floor, almost in slow motion – only to be swiped mid-air by the lady with almost ninja-like reflexes. She rinsed it quickly and tossed it behind her; it flew in a smooth arc and landed perfectly on top of another glass. It was almost comical how perfectly executed it was. Not that Naruto was conscious enough to bother admiring it.

When loud snoring began emanating from the blonde head resting on the bar, Tsunade sighed, then, grabbing a much larger glass, filled it with cold water and dumped it all over his face.

Most people would have been shocked with the deluge of water, but Naruto had had this action performed on him many times in the past, too many for it to have that sort of effect. He simply cracked one blue eye open and looked at Tsunade reproachfully.

"Ahh… granny… seriously? 'm awake, awake." He creakily pushed himself up to a sitting position, a sour expression on his face more suited for a barking elderly man than on a for-the-most-part healthy 24-year-old. Tsunade placed another glass of water on the table alongside a lone pill of Tylenol, the simple gesture laden with an unspoken threat. A brief, rebellious expression flashed across Naruto's face before he sighed, popped the pill in his mouth and downed the contents of the glass in one swallow. He'd happily been drunk mere minutes prior, but Naruto was already feeling the buzz of alcohol rapidly dying away.

Tsunade snapped her fingers in his face. "Go home, Naruto," she said. "You've had more than enough for tonight. You drink anymore, you're going to pass out on the floor and I _will_ throw you out with the trash in the morning." As much as Naruto drank and as much as he enjoyed it, Tsunade knew he had never been able to handle too much liquor. And tonight, seemingly stressed, he'd drank much more than his usual limit. Tsunade was actually surprised he'd managed to become awake and conscious, but the brat had always had a stubborn amount of willpower. Probably making up for his lack of common sense.

Naruto would have argued in favour of a few more drinks, seeing that he was awake and not vomiting down someone's shirt, but he knew more than to argue with Tsunade when she used that tone. After the first few times he'd gone flying into a wall, he knew when he reached his limit with her. "Alright, old lady, keep your panties on –" he jerked out of the way when he saw her fingers curl into a fist, " – I'm going I'm going. Just –" and here, he smiled his most charming smile. "One more for the road, ne?"

A minute later, Naruto, having been slapped out onto the sidewalk, began his trudging journey home.

Through the back alleys and rough streets of Konoha he walked, weaving his way past drunken couples and college kids out on a weekend night out. He was sure his set of friends were also out, wreaking havoc at some club or another. Normally he would've been the center of the party, slamming down bottles of vodka, dancing wildly on the countertops, stripping off for body shots – but for the past few months he'd avoided socializing.

He reached his old, dilapidated apartment building and walked the few flights up, opting to bypass the creaky old elevator – it tended to shut down, leaving the unfortunate soul trapped for hours with very little in way of ventilation. The residents of the building had tried, many times, to get the landlady to fix it for them. In the first month, they'd religiously rung on her bell or messaged her, only to be told by an automated machine that she was away – and was suspiciously around only on the day that rent was due. As for Naruto, he was decidedly on a budget and though the building was generally on the decline, it was cheap and serviceable. So he kept his mouth shut and took the stairs.

He opened the door to his tiny bachelor unit. It was a small, rectangular room with an adjoining bathroom. A few pieces of furniture dotted the space, with a large mattress on the floor. Colorful piles of instant ramen littered his countertops. The walls around his bed and desk were tacked with sheets of paper, illustrations, odds and bits of scrawled writing. Pulling off his clothes, he dropped it on a pile of clothing on the floor and stumbled over to his bed. He sprawled out and waited for sleep to claim him.

He'd have liked to be so drunk that he could fall boneless into bed and immediately pass out, but the Tylenol combined with the walk in the cool autumn air had unfortunately left him dead sober and with the tell-tale sign of a post-drinking headache. Well, never mind. He'd always gotten over hangovers with just a few hours of sleep, always had a hyper immune system, and most bruises and minor scratches faded away within a day. Lucky for him, as he'd spent a good chunk of his teenage years roaming wild on the streets. His old, uncontrollable, and – though he hadn't realized it at the time – halcyon days.

Suddenly restless, he got up, and – feeling locked in the same constant battle with himself, went to sit at his desk.

He powered up his laptop, and pulled up a blank document. And sat, with his fingers on the keys.

He stayed like this for the next half hour, staring determinedly at the screen. Several times, his fingers twitched, but the page remained blank.

Rrrrrrrrring.

Only a peek of golden hair was visible from underneath the thick orange blanket. As the phone continued its incessant ringing, a tan hand finally stretched out. Groping for the source of the extremely annoying sound, his finger poked about until it finally, blessedly hit the mute button.

Five seconds later, the phone rang again.

Naruto groaned. He had a good idea who the caller would be and knew that unless he picked up at some point, the caller would have no problem redialing over and over. And if he solved the problem by simply turning off his phone, he'd soon be hearing a banging on his door.

He swore and this time jabbed the green answer button. The screen sprang to life with an image of a shaggy-haired young man with a barking dog on his shoulder.

"Dude, Naruto!" boomed out the jovial voice.

Naruto didn't bother replying.

Kiba snickered. "Shieeetttt, how long you gonna sleep man? Weren't you the one having tea time and knitting with your auntie last night while the rest of us got fucked up?"

Naruto swore. "Shut it, mutt. This is my one day off and it's been a helluva week." His voice was deep and scratchy with fatigue; he wanted nothing more than to hang up and sleep all day.

Kiba's voice turned mock soothing. "Aww, does the widdle baby fox need a cuddle this morning? Want me to kiss your forehead and tuck you into your nappy?" He snickered as he used the schoolyard epithet that had haunted Naruto for a good portion of his childhood, on account of the whisker-like birthmarks on his face.

"I swear to god, Kiba, get to the goddamn point or I'm hanging up – "

"It's Z1 time, man! Fucking finally!"

Naruto paused.

"It's here?"

"Fuck yeah, just got here this morning. Still in its box. So get your ass down to the shop, pronto."

 _The shop_ was Kiba's bike repair joint, the one he had wrangled Shino into opening together with him a few years ago. Kiba's obsession with bikes ran in a different direction than Naruto's. Kiba loved the tinkering, the building, the mechanics side of it, pulling apart the motor and engine and jimmying it back together with his own special brand of engineering know-how.

Naruto, though, was more obsessed with the feel of _riding_. In his irrepressible teenage days he'd been a complete adrenaline junkie, always looking for the latest dare or thrill. And his greatest joy had been in piloting stolen – _borrowed_ – motorcycles for A.M. joy rides to the coast, blasting through empty roads and sharp mountain curves at 140 miles per hour. He'd always loved the beating of his heart and the feel of blood pumping as he teetered between wild escapism and incredible danger.

When Naruto and Kiba had been dicking around online and had stumbled on the Kawasaki Z1 in the vintage valuables auction on eBay, they'd literally started drooling. A few days of an intense bidding war (complete with a mountain of crumpled beer cans chucked around the room, the constant stream of the word 'fuck' and incessant hair tearing, not to mention spending more money than either had spent on a single item in their lives), with a month-long wait for shipment, and they'd both been crawling out of their skin with nerves and impatience.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes. Don't you dare open that fucking box without me."

Kiba crowed in excitement and Naruto frantically hung up. He bounced out of bed and ran into his dilapidated bathroom. Brushing his teeth and scrubbing his face clean at the same time, he whipped on a shirt, shoved his legs into a pair of holey jeans, and ran out the door. He could still taste the toothpaste in his mouth but he grinned wide, in a better mood than he had been for weeks.

The sun glinted off the chrome caps of the two-seater as he and Kiba reverently stripped away layers of cardboard and slowly unveiled it. They peeled off the last layer of protective covering – and stepped back in awe.

"Dude…" Even Kiba, who was physically unable to shut up, was speechless at the sight.

The vintage bike was absolute perfection. The burnished silver surface gleamed. The graceful curve of the handles were encased in the same smooth black rubber of the perfectly aligned wheels. The metallic frame ran in a smooth, fluid line, so expertly crafted he could weep. And – the piece de resistance – the bright yellow fuel tank, with the words 'Kawasaki' stamped proudly across.

Naruto reached out a finger and ran it across the throttle, itching to jump on and squeeze, revving the engine into motion. "Kiba, I'm dying. Let me take it out for a quick spin. I'll be back in half an hour, tops."

Kiba laughed. "We gotta do some serious maintenance work first, man. Clean out the carburetor, maybe even replace the cylinders. And a million other things to fine-tune. I'm not having this blow out the first time it's taken out for a ride."

Naruto groaned. "I can wait a few days. A week, tops. The past month nearly killed me."

"Then shut up and hand me those screwdrivers, and a pair of pliers."

Naruto handed Kiba the tools and brought over the whole tool box. A jumble of bearings, clutch plates, circlips and other assorted small parts were inside. He ran his fingers over the spiny surface of the sprocket, flicking it with his nail and watching it turn. It was cool to remodel or build bikes from scratch but Naruto had never had the patience for it; for this bike, though, he was willing to put in the time and diligence.

For the next hour, the two worked with companionable chatter, as Naruto helped Kiba slowly remove the carburetor and begin pulling apart the outer layers. Both grimaced as they saw the remnants of old fuel within.

"See," Kiba said. "It looks great on the outside but this model is _old_. It needs some care. You'd have gone for a ride and the engine might have blown up and set your ass on fire."

Naruto snorted. "Like you wouldn't have paid good money to see that." Kiba saluted him, a wide grin on his face. "Seriously, mutt, let's just do the absolute essential today. I _need_ to drive it down to the coast tonight; it's torture, looking at this thing." He shook his head, already feeling the sea-soaked wind running through his hair…

Suddenly, his phone rang. Naruto wiped his oil-greased fingers on a rag and dug through his pocket.

"Yo! Uzumaki Naruto speaking."

"Naruto!" It was the desperate voice of one of Naruto's part-time employers, cracking with stress as always.

"Tatsuyu-san, how can I help you?"

"Naruto, are you free tonight?" the man said. "There's a big event happening over at the old City Hall ballroom. One of the waiters pulled out and we can't risk it being understaffed." The man drew in a deep breath, sounding like he would keep over right then and there. "We have the city's elite coming. And a very, very important guest of honor."

Naruto grimaced. "I'm not sure I can help you tonight, sir. I'm in the middle of something and it's going to take all day…"

"Just five hours! The event will run from 7-10, and I need you an hour before for set-up and one after cleaning. I'll pay you 1.5 the usual rate for the trouble."

The blonde wavered, running mental calculations in his head while looking longingly at the bike. Rent was due in a few days, and he'd been tired of subsisting on store-bought onigiri and boiled eggs. An extra bit of cash to tide him until the next payday was always welcome.

"Alright, I'll be there."

The man sighed with relief. "Wonderful! Be at the back entrance of the old building by 6 p.m. I appreciate it, Naruto!"

He hung up and saw Kiba glance at him inquisitively. "You taking on another job tonight?"

Naruto blew out a breath of air. "Yeah, another waiter gig. Couple extra bills to rub together, it's always good."

"Dude, why don't you just get a regular job? I mean you scraped through college but you've got a degree. You're a capable guy and you can do a hell of a lot better than these random jobs for cash. You know you're more than welcome to come and partner with us here, too."

Naruto clapped his old friend on the shoulder. "Thanks man. You know I appreciate it. It's just, riding bikes has been… a way for me to get away from everything else in the world. Besides, I was never into building or fixing them like you. It'd drive me crazy, sitting here and smelling the oil all day and not getting to _drive_ them." He got up and stretched, working out the kinks in his neck.

"Then what about a 9-to-5? Some office? It might not be what you want but it's a better way to pay the bills."

Naruto grinned. "It's not for me. Remember that internship I did right after graduation? The work wasn't bad but being stuck in a tiny cubicle all day and some old pervert calling himself your boss – I knew I could never do it. It's fine, for now, these part-times."

Kiba knew he was heading into delicate territory. "How's your writing going?"

"It's… going." Naruto said stiffly. His friend shook his head.

"Dude, you used to write some crazy shit. I don't read much, you know, fiction, but your stuff was damn good. I thought you'd be published by now and living some rockstar writer life. Like that Harry Potter chick. Why aren't you writing, man?"

Naruto rolled his eyes. "You nag just like Sakura, and Ino, and pretty much everyone except Shikamaru."

Kiba snickered. "Shikamaru would do it too, if he weren't so damn lazy. Even when we were kids you used to write. Everyone was into your shit, even that stuck up bastard, Uchiha –"

Naruto's breath stopped at the mention of that name. Aware that Kiba was watching him, he picked his words carefully. "I'm still writing. I just – I need some – inspiration," said Naruto, feeling lame. "I sit and stare at the screen but there's just nothing. It's been like this for months, years, really…"

"Inspiration?" Kiba sniggered. "When's the last time you've gone out? And I don't mean your hot aunt's bar, but to meet _people_. You don't need inspiration, you need to get _laid_."

"Take your own damn advice, dog-breath. When are you gonna stop being chicken-shit and ask Hinata out?"

At Kiba's defensive expression, Naruto snickered. He held out the now-sparkling engine. "Don't worry about me, Kiba. Besides, I only have a few hours before I gotta run. Let's get this baby back in one piece."

Naruto plastered on a smile and proffered his tray of champagne forwards. God, this was dull. He'd spent the past hour with a cheesy grin on his face, observing society's finest sipping their expensive alcohol and trying to seem like they'd had personalities. He caught snatches of the conversation, ranging from networking chit-chat to the far more indecent – "investment capital on behalf of issuing debt securities"… "Can you believe that bitch spent seventy grand to copy my snakeskin Birkin"… "if I marry her, it's like betting that she's half my net worth"… He nearly groaned out loud. _Three more hours_ , he told himself. _Three more hours and I can sink into my couch with Netflix and a bowl of ramen_ …

He was mentally slurping on the noodles – sweet ramen, food of the gods – when he felt a sharp nudge on his side. It was another waiter, a perpetually sour guy that Naruto saw around these events, scraping together cash while badmouthing the millionaires he waited on.

"Three o'clock," hissed Kozue – Koizumi? "That's the guy who's the guest of honor. Worth $37 million at twenty-four. His brother's worth at least twice more, and that's just them, not including the whole family fortune."

Naruto shrugged. "So?"

"Fuck them," he murmured jealously. "We're here scraping the bottom of the barrel while those rich bastards don't work a day in their life. Look at all those chicks swarming around Mr. Perfect."

Though Naruto couldn't care less, he begrudgingly turned to look across the room, at least to appease K-whatever his name was. It was true, the man was literally circled by a wall of overexcited women, their cheeks stained pink and hands fluttering delicately as they drank in his words. He could barely see him with all the surrounding women.

Naruto shrugged, moving to turn away – until a woman blocking his view stepped out of the way and he had a clear, dead-on view. Naruto looked – and froze.

Standing less than thirty feet away was none other than Uchiha Sasuke.

He hadn't laid eyes on the prick for ten years, but there was no mistaking him. It was Uchiha motherfucking Sasuke, who was looking both completely at ease and utterly pissed off at the same time as he stood in the center of his admirers. The facial expression on his face was one Naruto intimately knew – it was the very one that Sasuke had worn all those years as they'd grown up together. That exact damn look, the one that told you that you were worth less than the speck of dirt on the bottom of his shoe and if you would just go fuck off and die already.

As Sasuke looked/glared at yet another socialite foaming out of her mouth with excitement, Naruto nearly laughed out loud. God, they were _those same_ eyes – dark and arrogant and domineering, eyes that had made Naruto go crazy with a combination of spitting anger and an almost insatiable longing for the boy to just _once_ acknowledge him as a peer, as a rival. Which, of course, the too-fucking-good-for-you Uchiha had never once deigned to do.

They'd frequently gotten into scuffles when they were young which veered off into athletic competition as they'd grown older. They'd competed fiercely at just about sport offered at school – basketball, volleyball, track and field, swimming. Naruto had always, always infuriatingly come in second, though he'd obsessively trained for hours a day and neglected his studies (his grades had never been much to talk of to begin with, while the Uchiha had maintained a perfect 4.0 GPA throughout – another reason to hate the bastard). Naruto had revelled in the fact that he seemed to be the only one to get under the stoic Uchiha's skin and provoke _any_ sort of reaction from the boy. Sasuke had been thronged with fangirls _and_ boys since kindergarten, but he'd consistently shown as little interest in the collective group of them as he would a garden slug.

During the summer break before freshman year, Naruto had spent all hours training outdoors in his quest to finally outdo his dark-haired rival in at least one sporting event. But on the first day back, the rumors had circulated that Sasuke's parents had died in a freak car accident and that he and his brother had been sent to be cared for by distant relatives in another country. Aside from vehemently denying to himself that he felt – hurt – that his old rival had disappeared without a word, Naruto had pretty much lost his motivation for academia. Instead, he'd spent most of his high school career either holed up in his dingy housing unit while scratching out numerous pages of odd, eclectic stories, or brawling on the streets and riding bikes. It was a wonder he'd been able to graduate and even been able to go on to college – that had been with no little part due to the persistence of one of his old teachers, Umino Iruka. He'd been one of the few teachers at the school to look upon Naruto with any sort of fondness.

Naruto had often thought of Sasuke – less, as the years went by, but still wondering – wondering about his life, what he was doing – wondering if Sasuke ever thought of _him_ – but the Sasuke in his mind had remained a stubborn, stuck-up fourteen-year-old brat. There had to be some kind of witchcraft involved, because for some reason his conversation with Kiba earlier had conjured up the man out of thin air, after not having seen or heard a peep about him for ten years.

And the worst thing was: he hadn't figured that Uchiha Sasuke would have grown up to be so insanely sexy.

Sasuke had always been good-looking, a child with perfect porcelain features and silky strands of hair. Naruto had frequently taunted him about his 'pretty' looks, often earning a punch to the gut. But really, even as a child Naruto had known that Sasuke was attractive (the hordes of screaming girls were tantamount) … but there was this _sinful_ aura about him now that riveted Naruto. Sasuke stood tall and confident, black hair perfectly mussed, the clean lines of his body in an expensive tux cut to perfection. Every inch of him was flawless, just stupidly perfect. Naruto swallowed as his eyes fell down Sasuke's form, lingering at the elegant drape of his fingers around the stem of a champagne flute. Holy gods, Sasuke had _grown_ the fuck _up_. Naruto didn't want to admit to himself how good he looked – and judging from the cocky posture the asshole absolutely knew it, too – but bastard was hot as hell and there was no denying it.

And here he was in a waiter's uniform, serving at the event that his old rival was a _guest of honour_ at. Fucking shit.

Luckily for him, Sasuke had not noticed him gawking at him from the distance. Sasuke was probably too used to the constant burning gaze of admirers to even notice being stared at. And, Naruto told himself, Sasuke wouldn't recognize him even if he were to see him. He would have no recollection of some idiot from his youth who'd never been able to beat him at anything, at another deadbeat loser who was an utter and absolute failure at life…

Naruto tucked his empty tray under his arm and turned around abruptly. He took a step forward, ready to dive back into the kitchens and hide until the end of the night – until one well-heeled, well-dressed, well-inebriated guest lurched into his path and spilled the contents of her glass all over him.

"Whoops!" she giggled. She hiccupped, and stumbling forward, placed her hands on the chest of the now-drenched waiter. "Omigod, I don't even know how much I drank – " she looked up into the face of the waiter and momentarily stilled.

"Wow, you're _cute_!" she gasped. "Can I like, hire you to be my butler? Or – " her fingers began caressing the collar of his shirt. "I can help you clean up, like right now…"

Naruto groaned inwardly and began inching away, trying to get her hands to stop wandering further down his body. "Uh, it's okay, ma'am, if you'll excuse me…" He swept his dripping hair off his brow and tried to politely, deferentially, push the woman back from leaning on him. He glanced around haphazardly, hoping that no one had noticed. With the size of the room and the majority of the guests still focused on the Uchiha, barely a few people were paying attention to the pair. Through the gaps of people, Naruto could see Sasuke's back was inclined away from him. Thank fucking god.

Despite his soft rejection, the woman was holding fast onto his shoulders and was unfortunately growing louder. "Ugh, I just _love_ your eyes, they're so pretty I can just _drown_ in them… and omigod, you work out, don't you." Her hand slipped down Naruto's chest.

"Ma'am, please – " Naruto was at a loss. He was working this event and she was a guest, and a woman at that; he couldn't exactly use force to get her off, potentially causing a scene. He brought his own hands up to once again try to loosen her grasp on him, but she was surprisingly strong for a drunk, malnourished socialite balancing on spindly stiletto heels.

"Mmmmmm," she brought her face dangerously close to Naruto's, who was seriously cursing his bad luck. "You smell sooo good too. Come home with me, gorgeous." She pressed herself up against him, pushing her cleavage forward and batting her eyes.

Naruto had had enough. "Ma'am – I think you should be heading out – and call your driver." This time, firmly gripping her arms, he pushed her off. He shook off her attempts to clutch onto his hands. An increasing amount of people were turning their way and he needed to run back to the kitchen, like _now_. His glimpsed K-whatever his name was in the background, smirking. Asshole.

The woman wasn't used to rejection. That, combined with alcohol and arrogance, pushed her over the edge. "Omigod, how dare you! I told you! _You're coming home with me_!"

Her words rang across the room as every guest in the vicinity turned towards them. Naruto froze, mortified. It seemed as though an eternity passed in that awful moment, as all eyes fell on him.

And then he felt it boring into the side of his face, a burning intense gaze that sent shivers crawling down his spine. As if pulled by an inevitable force, he turned his head and looked back – straight into the pitch-black eyes of Uchiha Sasuke.


	2. Chapter 2

The blonde's mind churned with embarrassment, dread, and a kind of breathless anticipation as the gaze lingered between himself and his old rival. Naruto could feel the erratic thumping of his heart, an odd ringing in his ears – he was sure his turmoil was easily visible on his features. He'd never been good at hiding his feelings. Sasuke's face, however, was perfectly expressionless, his dark eyes opaque as they continued to scrutinize him.

Naruto was jarred out of the moment as Koizumi/Kozue/whoever he was, fucking finally, decided to step in and be useful. He neatly nudged Naruto out of the way and bowed slightly to the (embarrassed to have caused a scene, but still fuming) socialite.

"Ma'am, if I may" he said, voice dripping with oil. The earlier hostility he'd displayed towards the rich male inhabitants of the room was wiped completely from his tone. "You were clearly in need of assistance and this server displayed poor judgment. Please excuse his behavior tonight. His service will be reviewed" – Naruto almost snorted out loud – "and, if I would have the honor of escorting your lovely self to the nearest rest facilities? Surely you need a moment to refresh yourself."

"Uhm… well, alright then." The woman relented. She smiled, relieved that someone was finally paying her due attention. They both shot Naruto a look as they waltzed by – hers, venomous; his, triumphant. Naruto was willing to bet all his week's earnings that within ten minutes the snake would be on his merry way to the money lady's house, hoping to screw a small fortune out of her and putting his waiting days forever behind him.

A muffled comment and a snort of laughter to his right jerked Naruto out of his thoughts as he realized he was still right in the middle of a scene. _And Sasuke was_ _still_ _looking his way_. Fucking hell, he needed to get out of this room as quickly as possible.

Flashing a half-hearted smile in the general vicinity of the guests, he swiftly turned and – refusing to look in the dark-haired man's direction – nearly ran into the serving hall.

Inside the kitchens, word of the situation had already spread like wildfire (seriously, how? What had seemed an eternity had really lasted all of five minutes) and the various waitstaff and chefs, people he knew vaguely by sight, offered him sympathetic grins and scattered pats on the back.

He shimmied up to Teuchi, the head chef he had always been friendly with.

"Eh, Teuchi-san. You mind not sending me back out there tonight?"

Teuchi laughed and slapped him reassuringly on the shoulder. "Tough break, kiddo. We need every hand out there. Formal dinner starts in ten minutes. But if it helps, you can mind the tables further in the back and avoid the main crowd. And I'll whip you up a bowl of ramen later."

Teuchi was a Michelin-certified chef who was equally at home crafting gastronomic Asian-fusion delicacies that had the Japanese fine-dining scene oohing and aahing, and at bringing it down with the biggest, baddest, toss-in-whatever's-around bowl of street ramen that Naruto had ever the pleasure of tasting. It was so damn good he regularly sent a prayer of thanks to the gods for allowing him and Teuchi to exist in the same century.

Normally, this was enough to instantly perk him up but he had bigger worries on his mind. Namely, his job. "Thanks, Teuchi-san. But I don't even know if I'll be around by the end of this goddamn evening. Tatsuyu-san's going to have a heart attack when he hears about this. Wherever he is. Hope he doesn't decide to cut me loose." Thank _god_ his boss hadn't been in the room to witness the moment itself, otherwise Naruto wasn't sure he wouldn't have keeled over from a coronary right then and there.

"Don't worry about it. You're a good kid and Tatsuyu knows you're a hard worker. You just got into a spot of back luck tonight." The old man winked. "So you didn't want to take up her offer, boy? Not your type?"

Naruto grimaced. "Whatever she looks like had nothing to do with it. She was drunk out of her mind and having a fit I wasn't throwing myself at her feet. That chick was _definitely_ not my type."

If he were honest, though, his type did not go _that way_ at all. He was more into the taller, leaner, angular look. As in, penis. And as far as boner popping wet dreams went, his perfect ideal was a dark-eyed, dark-haired brooding avenger... who was just dying for a bright ray of sunshine to come barreling into his life and wallop that angsty crap out of him. Cheesy, but he'd grown up obsessing over anime and manga and the 'anti-hero' trope had latched onto him during his emo-jerking-off teenage years. During his self-proclaimed slutty stage in college, he'd dated male after male who'd fit even minutely into that description. But they'd all seemed pale imitations and he'd been as equally quick to ditch them as he were to hook up with them in the first place.

Naruto hadn't thought that _he_ would really exist in the world, too perfect and broody to be actual flesh and bone. But somehow, through some perverted miracle, the physical embodiment of everything he'd ever wanted was literally standing in the next room. In the form of the one person Naruto wouldn't – just couldn't – approach.

His mind jerked back to the way Sasuke's suit had fit on his body and he groaned out loud. Fuck, why couldn't the bastard have stayed the prissy little spoiled brat he remembered? Why'd he have to grow up to be so damn ridiculously attractive?

Naruto blushed, thinking about what had happened earlier. So fucking embarrassing. He could only hope to god that Sasuke was just passing through town and that he hadn't recognized Naruto, after all.

The next day, he was in the middle of lunch with Hinata when Sakura burst in through the entrance to the eatery, frenetic energy practically crackling along her skin.

"Naruto! Hinata!" she squealed as she shoved herself into the booth beside the shy, dark-haired girl.

"Sakura-chan!" Greeted Naruto exuberantly, grinning wide through his mouthful of noodles. Hinata echoed him, a soft yet welcome smile on her face.

"Oh my god, you'll never guess who's back in town," Sakura started dramatically, hands waving madly in the air.

Naruto felt a wave of dread down his back.

"Just this morning, I was doing my daily rounds at the hospital… and guess who walks in to visit the head practitioner? _Sasuke-kun_!" she squealed. Naruto forced himself to keep his expression unchanged despite the sudden heat he felt on his face. _Keep it cool_ , he told himself. _No one knows about last night. No one knows you were a waiter at an event where he was the guest of honor, and that some dumb drunk bimbo threw her drink all over you. Absolutely no one knows of your little meltdown over his suddenly sexy ass. Don't you dare say_ _anything,_ _especially not to the pink-haired she-devil_.

Sakura continued, eyes practically dripping with hearts. "Uggghhhhhh, he looked soooooo good. Like, still as pretty as he used to be, but all grown-up and mature… and you should have _heard_ the authoritative way he was like, barking orders into the phone…" she trailed off dreamily. Her gaze ran over Naruto and she suddenly snapped into focus, zeroing in on the hapless blonde.

"Naruto!" Sakura looked at him expectantly. "When are you going to meet him?"

Naruto paused. "Um.." his mind ran wildly for a normal and not at all panicked response, although he was more pissed off at himself for freaking out at Sakura's innocent and perfectly appropriate question _– seriously, Uzumaki, get a fucking grip on yourself_ – "Don't plan to."

Sakura frowned. "Why not? You haven't seen him in over ten years. And he told me he's only here for a week on business."

He forced himself to shrug. "What difference does it make? He was the biggest pain in my ass when we were young and from you've just said, seems like he's become even _more_ of a dick bag."

Sakura's expression creased into a downright glare and even Hinata was looking at him in that gentle but 'duh' face she used whenever he was being an idiot.

"Naruto, you know we love you despite you being the most clueless person to walk the Earth," said Sakura, emphasizing every word. "Listen to me. You NEED to meet up with Sasuke-kun. And you don't have a lot of time before he leaves."

"And why the hell would I do that?" Naruto asked, bewildered.

Sakura sighed, knowing she was about to drop a metaphorical bomb on the naive blonde. "You need to see him because he was your _first love_ – "

Naruto blanched.

 _WHAT did she just say?_

The pink-haired girl rattled on, deftly ignoring his spasming coughs and the broth spewing out of his nostrils. "- who you're still pining over. And you were the only person – and I mean the _only person_ – that Sasuke-kun ever paid attention to. There were like, serious Romeo and Juliet vibes."

The strangled choking sound finally subsided as Naruto thumped himself on the chest several times. "What the _fuck_ kind of _vibes_ are you talking about?" he finally sputtered. "There was _nothing_ going on between us. We weren't even friends! And we were _kids_!"

Hinata murmured, "Not Romeo and Juliet, Sakura-chan. They were star-crossed lovers whose families wouldn't let them be together. Naruto-kun and Sasuke-kun were more like... Darcy and Elizabeth?"

Naruto swiveled towards Hinata, eyes flashing – but Sakura refused to let him get a word-in.

She shrieked, "That's soooo perfect! Naruto, of course you'd be Elizabeth and totally pick fights with Darcy all the time and be in complete denial for years that you're head over heels. And Sasuke-kun is the humongous prick/secret softie who's had the biggest thing for you _all_ along."

Naruto could practically feel the blood dripping from his ears from the crap he was hearing. "You're both _mental_!"

He breathed deeply, trying to keep his temper in check. Was it only yesterday that he was freaking out about the fact that the Uchiha had suddenly loomed up again and seemed so weirdly attractive? And now, today, two of his closest friends telling him he was in lo- ugh, he couldn't even say the word to himself. Christ, this was not happening.

Sakura eyes gleamed beadily, the way one does when spotting a nice, plump rabbit caught in one's trap. "Even all your stories used to be about him. It was always some underdog beating his rival and becoming a great hero. And _hello_ , you haven't written anything in so long – you wrote less and less the years after Sasuke-kun left."

"That – that's not it at all! Come on, I wrote a lot of random crap – w-whatever popped into my head –" he turned pleading eyes to Hinata. "I've just been less – inspired, writer's block, you know – but I've been working on this one story, thinking of sending it to a publisher –"

"Naruto-kun," spoke Hinata. "I'm sure it's wonderful. You're a very talented writer. But don't a lot of writers have a special muse? Someone to show them what's missing, to inspire them – push them to greater heights?"

Sakura interjected. "Yeah, Naruto. Whenever you had a big fight with Sasuke-kun you came running the next day with some new adventure. And of course Sasuke-kun would pretend he didn't care but he'd be hanging around, listening with the rest of us." She smiled dreamily. "Tell me that isn't love between two idiot teenage boys."

"For the last time. There was nothing. NOTHING. Between us!" he barked out, popping a vein on his forehead.

The pink-haired girl sighed. "Keep staying in denial and you're going to miss out on the best thing to happen to you in ages. He is _glorious_. His face, his voice, omigod. _Everything_. You're going to die when you see him."

"You're completely exaggerating. He's good-looking but he's not _that_ – " Naruto bit back his words, eyes widening as he realized what he'd said.

Sakura looked like she'd won the lottery and even sweet Hinata eyed him like a hawk. " _Oh_? You've seen him already?"

"N-no. I meant, um. Before."

Sakura stood up and fluffed out her skirt, getting ready to leave. "Whatever. How many imitations of him did you date in college, anyway? I lost count after sophomore year. You've been pining for him for years and you're not going to be able to stay away anyway. So cut the act and just go make out with him already, and get over your writer's wall, hump, block, whatever."

She tossed a package his way as she stepped out of the booth. "Help me take this to Ino's place, won't you, Naru-chan?" she asked cheerfully, as if she hadn't just launched a veritable blitzkrieg on his ass, forever traumatizing lunchtime ramen. "Gotta run back to work. Byee!"

Naruto entered Ino's flower shop with Sakura's package, cursing that he hadn't simply drop-kicked it into the nearest sewer.

Predatory smile on her face, the pretty blonde girl opened her mouth.

"I heard-"

He hurriedly walked out.

Later that afternoon, he was back at the shop with Kiba. The final adjustments were being made to his baby. Naruto sighed almost contentedly as he ran a polishing rag over the shiny chrome surface. A few precious hours to tinker with the bike before he had to hustle off to his next job, chauffeuring an after-event car service. And – he'd never thought he'd say this – he was thankful for Kiba, his beer-guzzling, barbecuing, stereotypical-straight-as-a-pin buddy who didn't give a shit about the theories of crazy slash-obsessed fangirls…

Kiba got himself a safe distance away from the blonde before he opened his mouth. "Word's going round that lover boy's back in town."

Naruto spat out the coke he was drinking, spraying the exhaust pipes. He cursed as he wiped it off. "What – what _lover boy_?"

"You know. Your old, eternal rival and undying love." Kiba dodged the rag Naruto viciously hurled in his direction.

"Not you, too, dog breath. I've had enough drilled into my head from Sakura about that bastard to drive me up a wall –"

Kiba grinned. "You sure that's all you wanted _drilled_ into you?"

The blonde blushed, so darkly red that Kiba couldn't help his braying laughter. "I say this over and over again and it just won't get through your thick fucking skulls. There was _nothing_ going on between me and that asshole!"

"Dude, it was so obvious to all of us. We were so young we were practically dropping loads in our diapers and we could _still_ smell the hormones."

Naruto grimaced. "The only thing you were smelling was your own _shit_ , jackass."

Kiba shrugged. "You were always fixated on that guy and he was always reacting badly to you. Everyone else was invisible to him and we all just left him alone." He corrected himself. "Well, except all those chicks. But no one got under his skin the way you did."

"Fuck off! I just wanted to beat him at something because he was so damn high-and-mighty, always fucking better than everyone! _Someone_ needed to shove that self-entitled prick into the ground, for once!"

Naruto took a deep breath and shuddered, suddenly feeling an intense anger washing over him. "He always had the most irritating look on his face. Like everyone was just dirt under his feet. And all those years, I envied that bastard and called him my rival. I thought that I was catching up, to what, I don't know, but just catching up to – to _him_ – and I thought that maybe, even though we kept punching the fucking lights out of each other, we were even _friends_."

He continued raging, feeling as though a dam were broken – "And when he left, he didn't even bother to say, didn't even tell me or anyone about his parents and couldn't fucking say _goodbye_ – "

Naruto stopped abruptly, embarrassed by his burst of emotion.

Kiba whistled. "Damn, bro. That's a lot to carry around for ten years."

The blonde slumped his shoulders. "Okay, say you guys are right – you aren't –" he added. " – but let's say yes for fuck's sake. Say I've been into the jerk for whatever amount of time. So what?"

"Go tell him the shit you told me and get it off your chest. Maybe take the guy some flowers and make it special," said Kiba, making a kissy face.

Naruto groaned. "This isn't the fucking Notebook. I'm not looking for a relationship, especially with that dickwad."

"Not saying you have to _date_ the guy. Just tell him how much you missed him and sweep him off his feet."

"For fuck's sake. You people are all _insane_."

"You gotta admit you're at least _curious_."

" _I'm not_."

"No way you can be that focused on one person and not wonder what they're like in the sack," continued Kiba blithely (surprisingly an astute observer of human nature). "Do the old, satisfying-the-curiosity, hit-it-and-quit-it, thanks for a good time babe. Get some closure."

Naruto got a mental image of the Sasuke's expression as someone dared to utter the words 'thanks for a good time, _babe_ ' to _him_. It was not pretty.

"Can't think of anything better to inspire your writing, really," the shaggy-haired man smirked as he tossed the dirty rag back to Naruto. "Bang him once and you'll be tapping away on your computer like a bug-eyed squirrel hopped up on Ritalin."

Naruto swore.

Hours later, he was nearly at the end of his shift and glad that the day was over. He caught a glimpse of his face in the rearview mirror and grimaced as he caught sight of the cap perched over his head. He was _finally_ on his way to pick up the last of his clients. He couldn't wait to end his shift, drop off the sedate town car and crash into his couch with a six-pack of beer. Or maybe he'd head over to Tsunade's and get piss-drunk again. Anything, really, to erase the earlier conversations firmly out of his head.

Naruto pulled up in front of a decadent hotel. Another charity party or whatever filled with stuffy old suits, one Naruto was glad not to be working at inside. Definitely not with what had happened only yesterday – though it already felt like ages ago.

Through the car windows, he saw two figures making their way to the car, lead by a porter. The tinted windows combined with the dark of the night made Naruto unable to properly see his passengers, but he could make out a couple, male and female. Naruto turned his head to face forward as he heard the car door being opened, and the two passengers climbed in.

"Good evening, sir, madam!" Naruto called out cheerfully. "Where is your destination?"

From his position up front, Naruto didn't see the man stiffen as he heard the driver's voice.

The woman spoke. "The Shinra Hotel, please."

"Certainly!"

His passengers were not talkative. The woman made soft, cajoling attempts to converse with the man but he rebuffed them, speaking one-word answers in a voice so quiet that Naruto couldn't hear over the noise of traffic.

After a near-silent twenty minute ride, he pulled up in front of the hotel. The doorman walked over to the car to open the side door.

"We're here! I hope you have an enjoyable evening, and please don't hesitate to call the service for any future transportation you require," Naruto chirped.

It was then that he heard the male's voice, low and imperial. "Driver. There will be a second stop."

The woman turned towards him, confusion written on her face. "H-huh? But, but aren't you coming up…"

"No." The man's voice was cool, clipped.

"I thought we were going over the presentation numbers for tomorrow… and I have that bottle of champagne—"

"Karin. Out."

The finality of the words stopped the woman mid-sentence. As the car door swung open and the doorman's voice filtered in, she reluctantly clambered out and made her way through the hotel entrance.

The door slamming shut emphasized a sudden pressure in the air, so heavy he could almost feel it on his skin.

A bolt of adrenaline shot through his body like electricity. Naruto reluctantly opened his mouth to speak. "...Where to, sir?"

"North. The old Uchiha house."

The blonde stiffened and gripped the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. His body _screamed_ with nerves, already knowing what his brain was slowly catching up to. He glanced a peek at the rearview mirror, looking instantly away as he caught a glimpse of dark eyes.

Dark, narrowed, penetrating eyes.

He couldn't believe this was fucking happening.

This had to be some sort of divine punishment. He must have committed some terrible crimes in a past life. Snatched food out of babies' mouths. Burned down hospitals. Swindled old people. Surely, _surely_ there was no other way to explain how he was inexplicably dragged into the Uchiha's path twice, and the man hadn't even been in the damn town for a full forty-eight hours.

"…Certainly."

His foot stepped down on the pedal and his mind took that curious habit of feeling as if it detached from his body. His hands manipulated the wheel automatically as he began navigating the way to the former house of his brooding passenger. If Naruto had thought that it had been quiet with the previous third occupant, the stone cold _stillness_ in the car now was on an entirely different level. He could still feel those blasted Uchiha eyes lingering on the back of his head.

He waited, shoulders tensed, for the Uchiha to speak. For the inevitable taunting.

But as the minutes ticked by, the man was silent. And Naruto was beginning to realize that Sasuke maybe _hadn't_ recognized him.

There was no indication that Sasuke knew him or wanted to speak to him other than the orders from earlier. From what he remembered of his rival, his short, taciturn commands had always been his method of dealing with strangers.

 _This is good_ , he thought. Great that he didn't have to go through the humiliation of greeting Sasuke while serving as a lackey, albeit a temporary one. He was anonymous – one out of hundreds of nameless, faceless drivers.

As relieved as he was, though, he couldn't help but feel a stab of hurt. Sasuke had remembered Sakura with no apparent problem; had even conversed with her. The blonde was sitting a fucking foot away and Sasuke still did not know him. Yes, it had been a long time since their childhood but they'd been – or at least, _Sasuke_ , to _Naruto_ – had been, a defining, singular presence in his life. So much so that Naruto had had no problem recognizing the man instantly after ten years apart.

Had all those years of intense rivalry, the caustic remarks, the countless fistfights, the relentless drive to outdo the other – really been that insignificant to the Uchiha?

Naruto savagely put a stop to his traitorous thoughts. It _was_ all insignificant. They'd just been messing around as kids, and they'd both grown up. Sasuke had gone his way in life, and so had Naruto. They were practically no different than two strangers clapping their eyes on each other for a second, instantly drifting in and out of each other's lives.

As they approached their destination, Naruto slowly regained control of himself. _If I encounter the jackass with anyone I know (highly unlikely), then I'll greet him. Politely. As you do an old acquaintance. But that's it. And none of Sakura and Kiba's bullshit. Drop him off, get the hell out, and_ _definitely_ _get wasted at the bar tonight._

They had arrived. Naruto spotted lights in the high windows as he made his way up the driveway of the imposing old house. He hadn't seen the house for years, not having any reason to make his way this north of the town.

He blinked as an old memory surfaced. He'd been ten years old and peering through the bushes at a young Sasuke practicing martial arts with his older brother. Flipped his middle finger at him when the dark-haired boy had noticed the golden hair, and sent a wooden kunai sailing towards his head. Itachi had laughed and offered for Naruto to join. They'd spent the afternoon outside together, Naruto worshipful of the older boy and Sasuke glowering the whole time.

Naruto pulled up in front of the house and slipped his foot off the pedal.

"We're here. Sir."

The dark-haired man made no motion to get out of the car.

Naruto cursed inwardly. _Shit, is this fancy ass bastard expecting me to open the door for him? …Damn, I guess that's part of the job after all… I'll just keep my head low, my hat should cover my face and it's dark out anyway…_

As Naruto fumbled for the door handle, his passenger leaned forward. The blonde went rigid as he felt the sudden presence by his side.

Uchiha Sasuke tipped his head and brought his lips close to Naruto's ear.

"That's twice in two nights. Were you that desperate to see me again, _dead last_?"


	3. Chapter 3

Hello! I wanted to let you know that Writer's Block will no longer be updated at – the formatting is super annoying (I add in dividers but they mysteriously disappear, leaving each separate event to run into each other, also no italics, bolds) and it is just not user friendly. I will update on ArchiveOfOurOwn for fanfiction exclusively, as it is so much easier on the eyes for reading and I actually get to reply to comments there.

I have updated a new chapter there ( users/thecollectiveunconscious/ pseuds/thecollectiveunconscious). **PLEASE TAKE OUT THE SPACES AS FF IS ICKY ABOUT URL'S; OTHERWISE PLEASE JUST SEARCH 'THECOLLECTIVEUNCONSCIOUS** ' **ON ARCHIVEOFOUROWN . ORG.**

I will be posting all new chapters on AO3, as well as any new additional work. So please go there to read the next chapter! This note will be the last thing I post on Fanfiction.

Thank you for your interest!


End file.
